1948 and a first love

I was reminiscing a little about my more formative years as a teenager last night and the year 1948 stuck out for so many reasons:

That year the Bicknell Bulldog’s Football Team won the SIAC Small Division Championship with a 6-0 record. The Bicknell Daily News filled the front page and headlines with this miracle. So of course that found all of us puffing out our chests in pride and walking with a swagger that told of our importance. I mean even if you didn’t play on the team you were from there!

If I remember his name correctly, the Principal was Mr. Herald Axe and at the time most of didn’t care a lot for him because he ruled the school firmly and without any shenanigans. In retrospect though I think he did his job well and was making sure we lived up to our potential as best he could. But that year we gave him a run for his money! After all we were the Bicknell Bulldog’s and we were invincible!

There was never a dull moment that year and in addition to the championship the year was filled with:

1)      Pranks that involved shoe polish, chickens, lard, ink and even a horse in the gymnasium.

2)      Minor fistfights with rival schools.

3)      Forgotten homework assignments

4)      Tardiness from running the back roads too late.

Great movies came out in 1948, including: The Three Musketeers (starring Lana Turner and Gene Kelly) and The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (with Humphrey Bogart).

Books that changed my life hit the stands that year, especially Raintree County by Ross Lockridge, Jr.

But the other thing that stood out that year for me was the girl I met after one of the games. Cindy Schloger who was from Freelandville. I think we were in love but we never made it to that point. I guess at best we could be thought of as buddies. We ran the streets together, laughing and making a spectacle of ourselves.

I had the privilege of one kiss from her. Close to Christmas that year we had hot chocolate at a local dinner after an afternoon of homework, jokes and dreams and I was walking her home. She slipped on some ice and I caught her in my arms. Our eyes met as I pulled her up straight and we both mutually edged in for a kiss.

Oh the glory of it! The fresh washed scent of her hair, the glitter in her eyes, along with the lingering taste of chocolate on her lips. My heart stopped. Then we both seemed to realize what had happened, quickly pulled apart, adjusted ourselves and continued on to her home.

We never talked of it, though I think we both often remembered it. Cindy’s father relocated her and the family to Indianapolis that next spring as he took a better job there. I stayed in contact with her for a short while, then my life got complicated and I (sigh) lost track of her.